


Gravity

by Master Thief (lucid_lies)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Ian, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gallavich, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Hurt/Comfort, Ian Gallagher and Mandy Milkovich are Best Friends, Ian has issues, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Sad Mickey, Top Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucid_lies/pseuds/Master%20Thief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a couple of weeks since Ian called it quits between them. Mickey never expected to see Ian again, licking his wounds in the privacy of his own home. That is, until a familiar redhead shows up on his doorstep asking for help. Mickey wars between helping the man he loves and picking up the shattered pieces of himself that Ian left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, what to say? This one is really random and I don't know where it came from - probably from the part of me that was devastated by the season finale. Admittedly, I haven't watched up to that point yet (I'm still on season 3) but I saw the clip and it broke my heart and pissed me off all at once. I wanted to make a kind of do-over fic, I guess? I'm sure it could be better. I'm just experimenting right now cause I've never really written Shameless/Gallavich fic before and I'm still trying to find what works for them writing wise. I have a vague idea of where I want this to go. I hope you enjoy? Unbeta-ed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to warn for except some language - but what do you expect when it involves Mickey?

“Hey, Mick.”

Ian stands outside the Milkovich house, soaked to the bone. His hair is a tangled mess of dull, greasy copper strands. Heavy bruises circle his eyes, face gaunt and pale. Mickey stands in the doorway, frozen. He’s holding onto the wood with a white knuckled grip like he’ll float away if he lets go. Maybe he still will.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Gallagher?” he spits, resisting the urge to slam the door in the other boy’s face. Because even if he wants to, no matter how hard he tries to, Mickey can never hate Ian, and that makes Mickey hate himself, at least a little bit. “Thought I told you to never darken my doorstep again, Asshole.”

Mickey might not hate Ian but he’s always been good at pretending. It’s all he has left and he’ll be damned if he lets Ian see the broken, raw parts of him ever again.

Ian stares down at his boots, smiling bitterly and scuffing his feet. When he looks up at Mickey, his eyes are green chips of ice.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” Ian says, “But I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“So you come to me. That’s how it is now, Gallagher?” Mickey flashes Ian a hard smile, all teeth and no softness. Things aren’t like they used to be. They can’t be. “You think cause we used to fuck I’m going to take you in like some fuckin’ charity case?”

Something dark croons inside Mickey when he sees Ian flinch back like the words physically hit him, looking gutted before schooling his features into a neutral expression.

“I have no where else to go, Mick. I know - I know things between us aren’t good right now -”

Mickey cuts in, “Understatement of the fuckin’ century, Gallagher.”

Ian ignores him and continues, “But if I - if I ever meant a damn thing to you, you’d help me out right now.”

Anger explodes like a supernova in Mickey’s body, burning through him like wildfire and leaving nothing behind but ash and destruction. His knuckles itch with the urge to smash his fist into Ian’s face and make him bleed, leave him as fucked up as he’s left Mickey. But he doesn’t. He can’t do that to Ian because he fucking loves him. He’s never hated that fact so much before in his life.

“Sorry, I don’t think I heard that right,” Mickey sneers, slamming the door behind him as he steps out onto the porch. The wood rattles in its frame. “Did you seriously just fuckin’ say that to me?”

Ian scuttles back, staring up at Mickey with wide eyes.  

“Mick--”

“You know what, Ian?”

Mickey shoots Ian a poisonous look, body coiled tight as he goes down the front steps. All the pain and hurt, the raw, bleeding exposed parts of himself scream out. Everything Ian has put him through in the past few months flash through his head. All the lies, all the secretive fucks burrow within his chest and gnaw on his heart like its a fucking chew toy.

You don’t kick a wounded animal when it’s already down. They eventually get sick of the abuse and bite back. And for Mickey, these past few months with Ian have been nothing but abuse. He had to sit back and watch as Ian lost himself; cheating on him, lying to him, taking everything they had and ripping it apart with an indifferent smile.

Mickey is done.

“Fuck you,” he says, slamming his hands into the redhead’s chest, making him stumble back. “You don’t get to say shit like that to me. I did everything for you - I even fuckin’ came out for you!”

“Mickey, I--”

“I tried to help and you fucked off. You don’t get to come crawlin’ back weeks later and fuckin’ say you want my help now. I don’t owe you shit.”

Ian frowns, stepping closer to Mickey. He makes a grab for Mickey’s arm but the smaller of the two jerks out of his reach.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me, Gallagher. Next time you even so much as try to, I’ll break your face.”

“Please, I don’t want things to be like this,” Ian pleads. “I didn’t mean to do any of that, Mickey. I’m - I’m sorry, okay? I just, I really need your help right now.”

Mickey grins, a harsh, unhappy line that cuts across his face. He spits on the ground by Ian’s feet.

“Things are the way they are cause of _you_ , Gallagher.”

Ian flinches, arms coming up to hold himself like he can protect himself from the words coming out of Mickey’s mouth.

“Now fuck off, lookin’ at you makes me sick.”

Ian stumbles away from Mickey, looking equal parts shocked and ill. Mickey ignores the way his heart lurches in his chest when he sees the moisture gathering in Ian’s eyes, the trembling of his bottom lip and chin. Mickey ignores how broken Ian looks in that moment because if he doesn’t, he’s just going to give in and Mickey Milkovich is tired of being the one that gets hurt.

He’s tired of Ian poking at all the sore and bleeding parts of him with a stick, like some kid with a magnifying glass and an ant hill. He needs to protect himself because no one else will. He’s already messed up enough, there’s no need to add more problems to the ones he already has.

Letting Ian back in, in any capacity, will only end badly for Mickey.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Ian’s voice is low, the words barely a whisper, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Mickey ignores the memories of happier times that swim through his head when he sees it. “I’ll just - I’ll go...”

Mickey stands tall as Ian turns around, shoulders slumped. The redhead glances back, eyes shimmering in the fading light with a strange, unreadable emotion. If Mickey didn’t know any better, he’d say it was regret.

“Mick, I really am sorry. For everything.”

His heart drops into his stomach and he has to clench his jaw to keep all of the words locked in his throat. If he doesn’t, Mickey knows he’ll call out and forgive Ian for everything. And he just can’t. He isn’t ready to. He doesn’t know if he ever will be ready to.

Ian pauses, waiting to see if Mickey will say anything. When he doesn’t say anything, standing as still as a statue, Ian sighs in defeat before leaving.

The image of the redhead walking away from him is burned into his retinas and there is a bitter taste in his mouth. Everything between them just seems that much more final now that Mickey let him walk away. His heart aches in his chest.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, slamming the gate closed behind him. The metal links rattle from the force.

Mickey isn’t drunk enough to deal with this shit right now but he’s about to fix that.

He’s gonna blow another evening at The Alibi. That’s all he seems to be doing lately. Mickey’s not complaining though. When he’s hammered, he doesn’t see Ian’s face everywhere he looks, doesn’t remember all the kisses, all the touches, all the sweet words hidden underneath all the insults.

With enough alcohol in his system, Mickey won't even remember Ian.


End file.
